Fiction
by Sara6
Summary: Fluff, angst, and feistiness collide in this quirky Michael/Liz vignette.


Fiction

**Fiction**

  
Rating: R  
Notes: It was angst, then it was smut, then it was fluff. Hopefully it didn't end up too confusing. This is short. It's not my usual type of fic. Okay, yeah it is. But it's different. Just read the damn thing.  
Dedications: To Ivy English, Whiteotter, Minnie, *Maria*, Decadence, LadyJ, Bella, and all the other Polarists out there.  


"Guilty by design  
she's nothing more than fiction  
she dreams in digital..."  
*Orgy*  
Fiction  


"I can't do this."  


"Yes, you can."  


"No..."  


"Yes..."  


"Yes..."  


***  


Whispers echo in the silent room. I look around, lost. Wasn't this my room? It's different now, wrong. Scarred by the words spoken within it, marked by sin. The world is different, and so am I. Changes are happening, I can't stop them, even if I wanted to. The walls close in on me, I need air. I am the daughter of confusion.  


I step through the window, the dawn is more welcoming than the harsh light of day ever can be. I can breathe again, but I am reluctant to. Breathing would make it real, and reality has never been a friend of mine. I sit on the hard pavement, losing myself to thought.  


I see us together, him and I, in flashes of friendship. Nothing more than that, until tonight. When our eyes met across the room, and I fled to my bedroom, and he followed. He didn't knock, just opened my door like he belonged there, and I knew then that he did. Calmly, he approached me, until we stood mere inches apart. Darkness surrounded us, shielded us from knowing eyes and whispered questions. We were alone.  


No gesture of tenderness preceded his actions, just slightly rough, immediate gratification. I knew then what it was like to be wanted, and to want. Somehow, we ended up in each other's arms, lips pushed together, hands grasping at bared skin, clothes falling to the floor. Desperation filled the air, joining our sighs and low moans. Desire watched from the sidelines as we tore at each other, taken by Longing, destroyed by Passion.  


Temptation ruled me as it has never done before. Perhaps I am a victim, or maybe I'm really the criminal. Who's to say where the blame should be placed? I still ended up in bed with him, tangled in sheets and lost in pleasure. We stayed that way for hours, threaded together, drowning in lust and heat and love. Dawn approached before we reached sleep.  


Now I watch the sun rising, bringing on a new day, ending the night but leaving the memories. Today I get out of Roswell, off to college. He'll stay here, forever engaged in his quest for answers. I will miss him, I know that. I will go off to Smith, and I will make friends, and I will learn, and in the back of my mind I'll always wonder what could have been. We will see each other again, him and I, it is inevitable. Our lives are set on a crash course towards each other, and we are destined to collide again. Knowing this makes leaving possible, if I never understood this I doubt I could have left the room, let alone the state. He will be here when I return.  


I hear him call my name from the bedroom, and wander back in. He doesn't smile, instead giving me that intense look like he's memorizing me. I drown in his eyes for a moment, but tear myself away. I approach the bed, and kneel by him, running my fingers through his hair. Our lips meet, and I kiss him, absorbing his taste, reveling in his nearness. I pull away first, I have to.  


"I love you, Michael." He smiles serenely up at me, because he already knows. I press a tiny bottle of Tabasco sauce and a thick silver ring into his hand, he accepts them with a questioning glance. I smile, nod, and head for the door.  


"Liz." His voice stops me, as does his hand, grasping my wrist. "I love you."  


I lean in for one last kiss, then open the door and walk out. I pause in the doorway, turn for one last glimpse of him. "I know."  


I turn around and walk away.  


***  


The cab pulls away from my house, and I look towards my balcony. He's little more than a blurry outline in the distance, but I'm glad to see him there all the same. I turn away as he disappears, rifle through my purse, and discover a small, clumsily wrapped package with my name written on it lightly. Curious, I unwrap it and pull out a soft velvet jewelry box.  


Inside is a shining silver locket. A tiny photograph of Michael is inside, with the word "Forever" inscribed on the back. I smile and slide it around my neck, clasping it shut, my last reminder of Roswell.  


The sun beats down upon my back. Last night was worth a lifetime, this morning was honesty defined, and today, well, today is the future.  


And I think I'll do just fine.  


The End  


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